Discretion
by Rose Eclipse
Summary: Robert Fischer's life has taken a better turn since inception has been performed on him. Much to Cobb's surprise, the Mark is desperate to keep that reality intact at all costs.


Author's note: "Inception" is the work of Christopher Nolan. If you would please take a moment to review after reading, it would be very much appreciated. Thank you.

A-A-A

Robert Fischer Junior hadn't bothered with his car.

It didn't take a genius to realize that the Porsche Boxster would have stuck out like a sore thumb among the second-hand vehicles that lined the street. That's why it had been tucked away in the garage for now. He drove a cheap rental van through the dingier part of the neighborhood, all the while keeping a careful look to make sure he wouldn't bump the car against one of many garbage cans parked on the curbs. Even his clothing was attired for the setting: nondescript blue jeans and tennis shoes. The monogrammed collar of his Brooks Brothers shirt may have hinted to an elite wardrobe but was almost unnoticeable under a gray v-neck sweater.

Recent experiences had taught Robert a thing or two about playing his role with subtlety and modesty. Not that he minded taking on the obligation. In fact, he preferred it this way.

He managed to get the van parked behind a rusty station wagon before turning off the ignition and pocketing the keys. Robert took the brown paper bag out of the backseat and walked up to the door of the nearest apartment building. He pressed a finger to one of the faded yellow buttons on the wall and waited patiently. After a few seconds of silence, a woman's voice was heard accompanied by a crackling sound of static.

"_Who is it?"_

The young man's handsome features relaxed slightly. "Robert, who else?"

He was rewarded with a tiny high-pitched sound before the door clicked open, permitting him to step inside.

There weren't any cockroaches scuttling across the floor but the old hallways smelled of decay and turpentine. Robert's eyes took in the faded carpeting and yellowed tiles that spelled out tight budgets for the residents of the building. But it didn't detour him from arriving at the door of 41B and rapping on the door with his knuckles. He heard footsteps from inside and then the sound of a chain being removed from the latch. The door swung open with a wave of warm air, the fragrance of homemade food, and the sight of a woman in a lilac-colored blouse.

Norah Hatcher looked older than her 36 years but even with the tiny crinkles at the corner of her eyes and traces of fading color in her brown hair, there was no underestimating the genuine kindness in her voice or the warmth in her face when she greeted Robert.

"Welcome, Robert. I'm glad you could make it." She reached up and gently kissed him on the cheek before taking the bag from him.

"Did you have a nice trip in from the city?" Norah asked after shutting the door behind him.

"Easy as always. Just some traffic around the I-39 highway," he answered.

"It's that construction on the bridge that's slowing everyone down, especially during rush hour," Norah tutted. "Never mind for now. At least you got here safely. Oh my…."

Norah's voice trailed off when her fingers touched the heavy glass item inside the bag. She pulled out the bottle of wine and read the tiny label under the lamp. "Robert, this is very expensive," she murmured with concern.

"Don't worry, Norah. Tonight's a special treat," he assured her. Robert was used to attending conference lunches and business dinners so popping the cork out of the bottle was a piece of cake. Norah was already getting down two of her best glasses that were heirlooms handed down from her grandmother.

"What are we celebrating?" Nora asked Robert.

He tipped the bottle towards her glass and filled it up with a flourish. "Our unofficial ten month milestone," Robert announced.

He clinked his glass against Norah's and sipped it thoughtfully. Much to Robert's relief, the wine seemed to relax Norah and even her eyes took on a slightly wistful look of optimism.

She took two more sips before quickly handing her glass back to Robert. "I'd better check on that lasagna," Norah explained hastily. She slipped on her oven mitts and opened up the oven door, examining the contents carefully. The aroma of melted cheese and tomato sauce filled the tiny kitchen with a wonderful scent.

Robert bent over her shoulder. "Can I do something to help?" he offered.

Norah waved a hand towards the den. "Alexander would appreciate some company. Why don't you play with him for a few more minutes before dinner?"

"All right." For a moment, Robert was tempted to reach out and lightly touch Norah's shoulder or murmur something into her ear. But a repetition of event had taught him that certain advances were not appropriate and such gestures not welcomed. He had to satisfy himself by putting down the glass and going into the next room.

"Hey, Mr. Fischer! Look at my space port!" chirped a lively young voice.

Sitting on the carpet was a six-year-old boy who was blissfully absorbed in fastening Lego pieces to what appeared to be his version of a science-fiction space model. Robert shifted his weight from one foot to another carefully while observing the small child. He was accustomed to giving orders to other adults and delivering lengthy speeches at board meetings. But attempting to bond with this boy was a social and emotional challenge for even a well-connected person like himself.

He managed to lower his voice and speak in a softer tone. "Hi, Alex."

The brown-haired head turned around slowly. Robert could see the child remove the ventilation mask from his face before putting it down beside the Lego box. Even the mechanical device could not detract from the boy's beaming smile, which had a lopsided charm from the gap between two front teeth. He also had a cow-lick of hair that bobbed up and down slightly when he waved a hand to Robert.

"Isn't it cool? Mom says it's my best one yet."

Robert took a seat on the carpeted floor and examined the interlocking colorful plastic pieces. "It looks great, Alex. How many levels did you build?"

"Five," Alex beamed proudly. He was briefly interrupted by a faint wheezing sound in the back of his throat. Alex coughed twice while Robert winced. But Alex just pulled out a small tube from his pocket, inhaled deeply four times, and slipped it back into his pocket as if nothing had happened.

"The box says it's only meant to have four but I used some of the other pieces from my Christmas present and added this engine room. See?" He pointed carefully to one side of the Lego ship. "That's where the space people can go if there's an emergency."

"Amazing." Robert turned the ship over in his hands carefully before fixing his blue eyes onto the boy. "You're very talented, Alex."

The boy responded with a shy smile and leaning his head to one side bashfully. "Thanks, Mr. Fischer. Do you want to help me with transport room?"

"Okay." For the next ten minutes, Robert Fischer had shut out the rest of the world and was quietly engrossed in the imagination of his pint-sized companion. While Alex pulled out Lego pieces and advised how to use them, Robert carefully snapped them into place.

It was strange how simple and serene his life could be when suspended inside this temporary bubble of family, toys, and love.

A-A-A

A lot can happen in a year.

A man can die. A person can change. An empire can collapse.

If Robert found out right away that his life had been altered due to a skilled extractor by the name of Cobb and his team of mind-meddlers, he would have hired a mercenary to eliminate Cobb in a heartbeat. Nobody would dare have the balls to stand up to the son of a mighty empire, let alone attempt to fuck the mind of a man like Robert Fischer.

That's why he had hired extractors in the first place: to mentally train him lest some petty rival try to penetrate and tamper with his innermost thoughts. It was all about power and money and Robert wasn't going to let his miserly heartless father down by allowing even the slightest possibility of a mistake to interfere with the future.

Nobody was going to take away his birthright. _His _inheritance. _His_ future.

But somebody _did_. And because of Mister D. Cobb, Robert Fischer was now one close to being one of the happiest men in the world.

Robert Fischer use to only wear the finest double-breasted jackets, handmade shoes, silk ties, and gold cuff links. He still donned suits when business matters dictated professional decorum for his board meetings and company trips. But his weekends were being spent in blazers and loafers and sometimes he'd even don a pair of jeans without a second thought. He even took off his heavy gold college ring, a rare treasure that made his father proud, and had carefully placed it into the vault for safekeeping.

Robert had sold off nearly all of his father's companies and started with a clean slate and a mental list of his own ideas. The business world had its usual gossip and hissing words of rebuke when Robert had taken a risk to establish Fischer EcoCorp, a start up company harnessing reliable sources of environmentally-safe energy. It had cost him a pretty penny to finance but EcoCorp was starting to pay off and expansion was booming over the last half year. The profits coming in where his profits and not Maurice Fischer's. It was a very satisfying confirmation when he examined the handsome figures in his accounts.

Norah Hatcher's job at EcoCorp was the most hectic and least appreciated position in the office: front desk receptionist. Despite being bombarded with mountains of paperwork, nagging requests for coffee, and countless buzzing incoming calls, she handled her duties with poise and dignity. Her life would have continued with the unchanging daily demands of a 9 to 5 work schedule if not for the simple fact that it was Robert Fischer's company and he insisted on monthly inspections to make certain that everything was operating to his whims.

A successful, clever, and attractive man at the height of his power has more than one unfair advantage over a woman. No wonder so many other females in that office had gone weak at the knees and hot in the groin from the sight of their employer. But Robert had years of experience in this cutthroat career and was accustomed to the artificial flattery and the ongoing sucking up to please him. He had no interest in abusing his authority and even less in the chattering peons who stole peeks of him from spying over the tops of their cubicles.

So how on earth did he get here? He looked around Norah's little kitchen, studying the colorful drawings from school that Alex had plastered to the refrigerator and the hand-made potholders hanging from the cabinets. The modest den with a sofa, the single bathroom, and the two little bedrooms—one for Norah, one for Alex—in the back rounded out their home.

Robert suddenly had a flash of memory to his father's house, a giant Colonial-style mansion with bay windows and white shutters. He had a vague memory of what it looked like when his mother was alive (there had been flowers in all of the window boxes) but everything changed when he was eleven years old. After his mother died the mansion became chilly, ominous, and devoid of love. The ripples in their indoor pool seemed to shudder with disgust, the sparkling chrome kitchen turned out fancy but tasteless meals, and the fireplace in the library usually went unlit because his father said the fumes were bad for your lungs. It was a childhood of the most expensive artifices that money could buy.

He hated it.

"Too hot?" Norah asked him.

Robert's attentions were pulled back into the snug nook that served as Norah's kitchen table. She was glancing at him and handing him a paper napkin. He swallowed a mouthful of cheese and sauce before wiping his face.

"No, it's…" he cleared his throat and managed a shy smile. "Fantastic," he assured Norah.

"Alex, try twirling your fork like this," Norah was advising her son. Alex managed to get some stringy cheese on his fork and without using his fingers, popped it into his mouth. "Yummy," he giggled. "Mom always makes good food when you come over, Mr. Fischer."

Norah had the grace to look down at her shoes at the same time Robert tried to look interested in the clock on the wall. But as they averted their attentions back to the table, their eyes made sudden contact. Robert was certain that the fleeting sensation that had quickly zipped through his conscience had made a similar impact on Norah.

Daring to risk enough, Robert's hand reached under the table and ever-so-gently touched Norah's knuckles. He half-expected her to ignore the gesture. After all, there was a child at the table! But much to his astonishment, her hand nudged lightly against his. Robert allowed his fingers to wrap around Norah's hand possessively. There was a sudden squeeze, the briefest moment of passion, and then he quickly released her hand as if nothing had happened between them.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Fischer?" Alex looked up from his plate. "You look like you've got an itch."

Robert coughed. "It's these jeans," he explained quickly, scratching somewhat dramatically at his kneecap.

A-A-A

Philippa clambered down the stairs cheerfully. "How do I look, Daddy?"

Cobb eyed the full skirt of lavender satin that billowed out from under his daughter's dress. He loved her more than life itself but years of being away from his children meant his knowledge of girls' clothing was limited. He made a mental reminder to thank Ariadne for her feminine intuition and insight to pick out the purple frock that had sent Philippa into squeals of delight.

"Like a princess," he declared. Philippa giggled and twirled round happily, causing the petticoat-lined skirt to billow out like tiers of a wedding cake. Several other girls raced around the room before dashing towards the back door.

"Wait for me! Wait for me!" hollered James. He tagged along at their heels in his favorite green overalls.

The front door chimed again. "I'll get it," Cobb smiled. He gestured to the back yard. "You kids go have fun in the moonwalk." Not needing another excuse to celebrate, Philippa and her friends had already reached the yard where an inflatable teddy bear had been set up next to a table of juice and cake.

Cobb made his way to the door while ticking off names of girls in his head. Hadn't he been diligent enough to remember Philippa's classmates? Patricia, Keisha, and Kim were already there, which meant it had to be Alice or Becky. The demands of being an attentive (and widowed) parent were sometimes trying but he embraced the responsibilities. This was his home and nothing was going to keep him from his family-

"Mister Cobb?"

The distinct voice sent Cobb's memories crashing down on him. He remained frozen in the doorway, eyes frozen on the newcomer while his mind tried to process the reality that Robert Fischer was standing on his doorstep.

The millionaire had a tight smile drawn over his face that barely masked his contempt. His blue eyes glared icily at Cobb.

Ever muscle in Cobb's body was taut and ready to act. Did Fischer have a hidden gun in his pocket? Where two thugs concealed in the bushes? Perhaps Fischer would just lunge forward and try to wring Cobb's neck without—

"I believe congratulations are in order," Robert replied coolly, breaking up the terrible silence that had come between the two men. The edges of his smile creased into his face. He held out a package wrapped in silvery paper and dropped it into Cobb's hands. Fischer lifted himself up on his tiptoes and glanced over Cobb's shoulder.

"Where's the birthday girl?"

Cobb said nothing. A vein was pulsing in the side of his face as he calculated the amount of time it would take to get to the loaded gun he kept locked in his desk in the library. It would have to be a precise cautious move...

"Daddy, who's there?" chimed a sweet voice. Philippa had dashed back into the house and was looking at her father. "Hello there!" she smiled and waved at Robert. "Are you a friend of my Daddy's?"

Robert didn't wait for Cobb to respond. He just pressed a hand to the man's chest and almost pushing Cobb aside, stepped smoothly into the house. "Yes I am. You must be Philippa Cobb. My name is Mr. Fischer." He glanced back at Cobb with penetrating eyes. "Your daddy knows me very well. Right?"

Cobb managed to nod. "Of course. Mr. Fischer and I have worked together for several years now," he answered in a monotone voice.

Philippa didn't seem as interested in Mr. Fischer as she did in the box her father was holding. Robert noticed her attention. "That's a present for you," he explained. "Why don't you open it up?"

Before Cobb could react, Philippa had snatched the box and put it on the table. "Phillipa, I don't think-" Cobb began to protest.

"Don't worry, Mr. Cobb." Robert heartily slapped him on the back. "Everything is just _fine_."

Eleven seconds. He could get to the gun in eleven seconds.

No, he couldn't, not with his daughter and those innocent kids nearby. This was some sick joke on Fischer's behalf. Cobb couldn't do a damn thing but watch Philippa unwrap the paper. _Don't do anything to rile him up,_ an inner voice cautioned him. _ Just stay calm and keep the kids out of it._

"Ooooh," she gasped. Phillipa lifted the gift out of the box. "What a beautiful tea set! Isn't it pretty, Daddy? It even has matching saucers and a sugar bowl."

"A sugar bowl," Cobb said mechanically. His gaze met Robert's. "How nice."

Philippa beamed. "Thank you very much, Mr. Fischer."

"You're very welcome." He gave her a velvety smile.

Cobb ran his tongue over his teeth. "Philippa, why don't you go back to your guests? Mr. Fischer and I have some business to talk about."

"Okay, Daddy!" Philippa ran up to her father and kissed him gently on the cheek. Then she whirled on heel and went back outside to the rest of her party guests. In the kitchen, silence ruled over action.

The clock ticked five times. Neither man moved. Finally, Cobb cleared his throat and motioned to the coffee grinder. "How about something to drink?"

Robert whirled on him. The electric-blue tension in his eyes still crackled but his smiling facade was replaced with a more sober expression.

"Yes."

A-A-A

_1 minute and 18 seconds later:_

"I came here alone and unarmed."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Cobb said. He stirred the coffee with a spoon even though there was nothing else to put in it. Fischer drank his coffee black too.

"Always looking over your shoulder, Mr. Cobb?"

"You could say that." Cobb put the mug carefully next to Robert's shoulder. Then he took a seat on the other side of the table. "It's not poisoned," he added.

"I know," Robert said. To prove his word, he instantly picked up the mug and took a sip. "The last thing you want on your daughter's birthday is the sound of gunfire. Phillipa is a cute kid. Six years old, right?"

"Seven," Cobb corrected him. He kept both hands on the table where Fischer could see them. He watched Robert drink some more, the pale lashes closed over his eyes while he concentrated on draining his mug dry.

Finally, Robert put the mug down and wiped his mouth with his fingers. "Good coffee. You made it?"

"Anna. She comes twice a week to do laundry and cooking."

"Hmmm." Robert looked into his empty mug. "Must be hard not having a wife around. I wouldn't know about things like marriage and commitment. But I'm sure you do. You must also know about what can torment a man's mind." He tapped his temple with a finger. "Walking around inside here."

Cobb's shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep heavy sigh. "Why are you here?" he asked tensely.

Robert's head inclined slightly to the right. "Why does anyone come to an extractor? For information."

"I'm retired."

"Said Saito. I'm not through with you yet, Mr. Cobb." Robert leaned over the table and whispered in a soft dangerous voice. "As of this moment consider yourself back on the payroll. My payroll, to be precise."

"If you're asking me to get back inside Saito's head—"

"I'm not," Robert interrupted him. "Just shut up and try not to play psycho-therapist con man with me, all right?" He waved his mug in the air. "I'll take some more coffee. And no funny business." To prove his point, Robert pointed back to the yard where the girls were playing freeze tag.

Cobb patiently refilled his guest's mug while Robert's tongue relaxed. The more he talked, the less venom was heard in his tone. But he still sounded edgy. Hungry. Cobb could sense that Fischer wanted him to do something that mattered a great deal to him.

"I remember reading in the papers about your wife, Mr. Cobb. What a shame. She sounded like an amazing woman: beautiful, talented, and smart. The entire 'homicide' theory makes no sense, though. Despite your eccentric talents, you don't seem like the murderering husband type."

If Robert expected Cobb to explode with rage then he was was disappointed. The extractor continued to do his duties mechanically and calmly as a robot. Robert went on.

"I never took relationships very seriously, especially in college when you run through girls like toy dolls. There's no point in getting attached if someone will dump you in two months. Though my very last girlfriend was this brilliant astronomer from MIT. A genius. We dated for six months with the usual rituals: yachts, golf clubs, tennis parties, the cuff links and pearls traded at Christmas. My dad even got out of bed and joined us at the table for Thanksgiving. He grunted that she was all right for me to marry her.

"But I knew what kind of life we'd have. We'd raise one-and-a-half children, spend winters in Aruba, and fight through 10 years of marriage counseling if she didn't divorce me in a year and take half of my bank account with her. It was all so _predictable_, so cold and flawlessly constructed. It _sickened _me." Robert spit the last part of this out with disgust.

"Then I met someone." His voice had suddenly softened, a flicker of humanity restoring his face. Cobb was hanging on every word, noticing the rapid change in Robert's attitude.

"Her name is Norah Hatcher. She's a secretary in one of my business firms and perhaps the most sane and sincere person I have ever met. The kind of person you hardly notice because she's always the one fixing the copy machine and doing all that crap nobody else wants to do. She clips coupons and applies for every health benefit for Alex-"

"Who's Alex?" Cobb interrupted.

"Norah's kid. He's a little younger than your Philippa." Robert explained. There was a kind of hunger in his voice, a desire that he hadn't yet admitted aloud. But Cobb wasn't an extractor for nothing. Being a stickler for noticing people's behavior, he realized this was an advantage for him. The more he could get Fischer to confide in him the better. Perhaps he could get to the root of the man's problem and even coax the truth out of him with minimal damage.

"Go on, Mr. Fischer," he said softly as he set the refilled mug back on the table. Much to his relief, Robert took the bait.

"He's got asthma and some other inflammatory disease that's damaging his lungs. But Norah loves Alex more than anything in the world and finally introduced me to him after we had been seeing each other in public for weeks. But she's still a secretary. And damnit, Norah is four years older than me!"

Robert punctured the last word with a fist on the table. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, having released the last bit of his pent-up emotions.

"I see," Cobb said at last. Then he dared to pursuit the heart of the matter. "The last time I checked our constitution there was no written law against dating an older woman."

Robert shook his head. "Norah won't have me. We had an argument last week about going away for a vacation and it ended up being a matter of her leaving Alex. Then she asked me to stop seeing her." He leapt from the table.

"That's why I'm here, Mr. Cobb. I want you to get Norah to take me back."

Cobb scowled. "That's not what I do, Mr. Fischer. It's a very different—"

"Mr. Cobb, don't make me threaten your family," Robert's voice cut through the air like a knife. "I don't want to wreck her life. Just get into her head and fix things."

"_That is not inception!" _Cobb drummed on the table with his index finger. "You're asking me to plant an _emotion_ inside Norah's head—not an _idea_! Do you have any idea what kind of relapse this could cause her? Could you really do this to someone you cared about?"

Robert was halted for a moment by the other man's harsh words. But then he quickly regained his icy composure.

"You did this to me," he reminded Cobb. "You turned my life around. The least you can do is keep it that way. Or so help me God I will make sure that you regret coming back to your family for the rest of your life."

The look of contempt he gave Cobb was long enough to make certain he knew how serious the threat was. Then Robert whipped his head around and marched out the door. Surprisingly, he didn't slam it shut but closed it quietly behind him.

Cobb groaned in frustration. He slumped forward and buried his face in his hands. What a mess. He and his team had been so careful to cover their tracks that he was certain Mr. Fischer would never find him, let alone identify Cobb from across a roomful of people. He had almost deluded himself into thinking he was perfectly safe and untraceable from previous actions.

Hadn't Mr. Robert Fischer Jr. been pleased with his new ideas? From time to time Cobb had skimmed the papers to confirm it. Saito was elated to hear that empire had finally been dissolved and his opinion echoed other powerful people in the business sector. They were impressed with Fischer's decision not to follow in his father's footsteps and applauded him for the success that followed.

But now there was backlash. There were going to be consequences and Cobb was going to have to fix them before they collapsed on him. Before things went back to the time when he and Mal—

No, don't think about her. He had already gone through this catharsis before and as long as he didn't wallow in self-pity, Cobb knew he could pull himself together and finish the rest of his life raising his children.

In a way, he pitied Fischer more than he dared to let on. Barren of a mother, neglected by his father, and surrounded by egotistical bastards in suits. No wonder Fischer was so hungry for a decent relationship. The entire story about an unlikely office romance was surprisingly refreshing and might even cause Fischer's suspicious behavior to be replaced with a more stable mindset. Cobb reminded himself that he wasn't opposed to Fischer's goals: he just knew that the demand was impossible.

Back in the training camp, Cobb's instructor had been diligent in explaining the brain's wave patterns and the differences between conscience and subconscious. Several guffawing students had joked about planting "wet dreams" into the minds of others before their teacher quickly cut them short. Sexual fantasies were one thing—altering a person's emotional patterns was something else entirely. Cobb knew the delicacy of extraction was based on subtlety and the slightest shift of the subconscious. To attempt the rekindling of an old emotion or starting a new one was a dead end he dared not touch.

Nevertheless, he knew he'd have to make an effort. As he sat there rubbing his temples, Cobb's mind was already at work planning out a list of necessary steps. Norah Hatcher, the receptionist at the East Coast building. He'd have to shadow her for a day or two, follow her daily routines, and maybe even phone up Eames for some help. But it was unlikely she'd ever have been dream-invaded before. She'd be a rookie, an easy target for Cobb. He'd at least have to get inside her head and see her side of the story.

But he'd have to be very careful to make sure that Norah Hatcher knew the difference between dreams and reality. Cobb wasn't going to let himself make that mistake ever again.

A-A-A

Ten days later he had the equipment tested for compatibility and was ready to go. The rest of his old teammates were concerned when he unexpectedly contacted them and asked if they should flee the country before Fischer declared a full-out war. Cobb told them to stand down. It wasn't worth getting everyone's hands dirty for a request that he had been specifically chosen to carry out.

If the very worst came about then Cobb had arranged for an escape plan. Arthur was to get to Cobb's house, take the children, and have them flown out as far away from Fischer's wrath as possible.

But as Cobb silently picked the lock to Norah's apartment, tiptoed inside, and untangled the wires beside her bed, he hardly thought about his children. It was too risky to let emotions get in the way. He had forced his mind to concentrate on the sleeping woman in one room and her son in the other. Fortunately, Norah and Alex were both heavy sleepers. All Cobb had to do was lie down on the floor and let his inborn talents take control.

The sense of vertigo...a heavy wave of silence shifting one world to the set.

The inner core of balance...spiraling downwards...round and round...deeper and darker silence swallowing him up...

A-A-A

Should Cobb have been surprised that he was sitting on a train?

It wasn't Mal's train. But nevertheless it had an emotional impact on him. He accepted the fact and managed to quickly shuffle it away with his other less vital thoughts so he could focus on the present.

The seats were made of cheap vinyl and the windows were sprawled with unreadable comments in graffiti. This must be the one Norah took to work every day. He was aware of being shifted around Norah's thoughts; her brain assessing memories before selecting options and filing them into proper order.

Cobb didn't even have to get off. He just waited for it to come to a clattering noisy stop. The wheels screeching hysterically before the train finally gave a jerking halt, causing everyone inside to shift forward. Through the scratched glass window he could see Norah's first encounter with Robert Fischer.

Norah had just come into the office kitchen holding a stack of stained cups. Across the room was Robert Fischer, well-dressed and coifed to perfection, who was in the very un-Fischer-like process of trying to wash some stains out of his tie by holding it under the running water from the tap. At first Robert didn't pay too much attention to the woman in the blue suit with a twist of brown hair knotted at the base of her head. He was too busy soaking his tie while she set the coffee cups into the sink.

"That'll ruin it," she suddenly said to Robert.

He glanced up from what he was doing. "Excuse me?"

"Here." Norah took out a bottle of seltzer from the refrigerator and poured some of it onto a napkin. "This will get most stains out but you'd better treat it soon."

Robert eyed her with skeptism for a moment. But not knowing what else to do, he finally consented and handed his tie to Norah. She began dabbing at it with the napkin and much to Robert's surprise, the stain almost instantly began to fade.

"How did you do that?" Robert glanced at his wet tie, scrutinizing the area where the stain had once been. "I never knew seltzer could work."

"It's amazing what a little vinegar can do as well". Norah wiped her hands on a dry paper towel before offering her hand to Robert. "By the way, my name is Norah Hatcher. I'm Mr. Jenkin's secretary. Welcome to EcoCorp."

Robert accepted her hand in a firm shake. "Robert Fischer."

Norah quickly dropped her hand and took a step backwards. "_The_ Robert Fischer? Ahh," she blushed. "My apologies. Of course I should know it was you when Jenkins said you'd be coming by sometime this week. But you look very different from your photos on the company website."

One eyebrow arched up in surprise "Oh? How so?"

"You look far less intimidating in the flesh," Norah insisted.

"Really?" Robert's conscience was ruffled by the unusual frankness of Norah's manner. He wasn't used to getting such blatant statements by other people.

Norah, worried that the CEO of EcoCorp might fire on her spot, was quick to make amends. "That's not what I meant Mr. Fischer," she insisted at once. "Most promotional pictures look like mug shots to me no matter how much people smile to have their photos taken."

Mr. Fischer's bemused face caused Norah rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. "I'm putting my foot in my mouth, aren't I? Let me apologize again, Mr. Fischer."

"That won't be necessary," Robert assured her. "I've taken harsher criticism in the past."

"For the website?" Norah said. "Or just the mug shot?"

Must to her surprise, a tiny smile came out of the corner of his mouth. Robert was equally astonished to find himself enjoying talking with Ms. Hatcher. Her attitude was surprisingly refreshing. "If you have any suggestions to improve the website I'm very interested," he said.

Norah shook her head. "That's very kind of you Mr. Fischer but all approvals have to go through Mr. Jenkins first."

No sooner had the words left Norah's mouth then the man of the conversation burst back into the room. Jenkins was a large gray-haired man who had the habit of talking and moving a lot without accomplishing very much.

"Norah! Why are you dawdling in here?" he suddenly barked at his secretary. "Your telephone is ringing and I need the Virginia files on my desk in an hour! Did anyone find the number of that dry-cleaning service for Mr. Fi-"

Then his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets before he started babbling away, his mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish. "M-Mr. Fischer! I am terribly sorry about this accident with the cranberry juice-simply a _terrible _accident! My secretary will get back to her desk right away. I know she shouldn't be wasting your precious time when you have a full schedule of—"

"Mr. Jenkins, I assure you that I'm fully capable of handling my schedule," Robert interrupted him in a firm tone that snubbed Jenkins at once. "And I'm sure your secretary can take five minutes out of her busy tasks from her employer to satisfy _your_ employer. So if you don't mind, I'd like to have Ms. Hatcher's help and some undisturbed privacy for a quarter of an hour. Do you think you can manage that?"

Jenkins tried to talk but his mouth finally snapped shut like a carp. He managed to nod his head like a wooden dummy before staggering out of the room.

"Well!" Norah shook her head in disbelief.

"Doesn't anyone else here talk back to Jenkins like a human being?" Robert asked.

"Nobody talks back to Jenkins _period_," Norah insisted.

"I see," he tutted.

The train doors closed and with another hissing sound and shake of the cars, it rattled forward.

Cobb was amused. It was certainly an unorthodox way to meet but fate had managed to intervene with a more positive outcome. From the huffy Jenkins to the snickering girls in their tight blouses and high-heeled shoes, Robert Fischer had dismissed all of them with a wave of his hand. Norah Hatcher, frank and hardworking Ms. Hatcher in her modest blue suit and plain flat shoes, had caught his eye.

The train doors opened again and this time there was rain outside Norah's window. Robert was back in the office, shaking drops of water from his umbrella and unbuttoning his trench coat. Wet bangs were plastered against his forehead. Norah instantly got up and fetched him a hanger from the closet.

"I'll make sure this is dry by the time your meeting is over," she assured Robert, taking his coat and putting it on the hanger. "There's a freshly-made pot of coffee in the kitchen too."

Robert was impressed. "Are you always this doting on visitors?" he asked.

"Years of practice," she answered as she hung up his coat. "The other board members are waiting for you in the conference room when you're ready."

As Robert collected his things, his eyes lingered upon Norah for a moment.

"Thank you, Norah."

She glanced up from her screen to find the blue eyes starring almost wistfully at her. "You're very welcome, Mr. Fischer." Norah gave him a smile. "Enjoy your meeting."

Again the train rolled down the lane of memories. The sun was shining but it was still cold outside with bare trees in stark browns against a clear blue sky. Inside the cafe, Norah and Robert were sitting together at a private table. Cobb noticed that Robert had removed his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

"…been two years since Eric and I seperated and not looking back," Nora had finished saying. She was taking small neat bites of her salad while Robert looked more engrossed in their conversation than lunch.

"He doesn't even want to see his child?" Robert asked.

Norah shook her head. "Eric wanted a son who'd be the pitcher on the team, the big strong 'A' student at the top of his class in everything. I was hoping Eric would show some compassion when the doctors told us about Alexander's delicate health. Instead, Eric was dissapointed."

A glimmer of emotion crossed Robert's face. "I know the feeling," he said aloud.

For a moment, Norah's temper flared up and she threw down her fork. "I don't understand how Eric could be so cruel! It's not Alex's fault he was born this way! I told him we still had a wonderful son to be proud of but he just took off never looked back at us."

She released a deep sigh. "Well, at least things are better now than they were four years ago. And EcoCorp has benefits that can help Alexander." She gave Robert a grateful smile. "I have you to thank for that."

"How did you the job?"

Norah sipped her tea. "I found an advertisement in the paper looking for a receptionist to work in a new startup company. One of my friends worked for Jenkins and put in a positive word for me."

"Is he good to you?"

To be fair, Norah seemed to be restraining herself from speaking out of turn. Robert noticed and waved a hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's my company. I want to make sure all of my employees are satisfied."

"Jenkins treats the staff equally ," Norah said at last. Then realizing Robert didn't believe her, she went on. "Oh all right!" she admitted at last. "Yes, he can act like a bit of a toad at times and rant on about trivial matters. But at least Jenkins is a fair manager."

"No sexual harassment?"

"No, thank heavens. Although I don't know who'd even want to bother with me."

Robert looked like he was going to say something but withheld himself.

Norah glanced down at her watch. "Look at the time! I've got to get back to work." She quickly gathered her things together. "Thank you for lunch, Mr. Fischer. You're pleasant company to be with."

"Likewise," he said. Before Norah could leave, Robert dared to exert himself further. "Call me Robert."

Norah looked up from her purse. "Robert?" she repeated, confirming his request. He nodded. Norah looked puzzled for a moment but consented at last. "All right, Robert."

Now she was certainly ready to leave but he wasn't done yet. "I'll back in the city next Friday," Fischer went on. "If it's possible, we could see each other again. How about dinner?"

This time Norah looked flustered. "I'd like to, Robert. But Friday nights are when I'm able to spend one-on-one time with my son and read his library books together." She slung her purse over one shoulder. "I'm sorry. Perhaps another time?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Robert's ears turned red. "Well…enjoy your books," he said somewhat clumsily.

A-A-A

Very gently, one stop after another, the train led Cobb down the lane of memories.

The weather was finally beautiful and the trees made a _shhh-sshhhing_ sound as leaves rustled in the wind. Robert had taken off his jacket and was carrying over one arm. He had loosened the knot of his tie and was strolling through the park at an easy pace. Next to him, Norah was listening attentively to him speak.

"Even when he was busy my father still made time for us. Once we spent the entire day fishing in a canoe and didn't come back until dark." Robert looked up to the sky, shielding his pale face with the palm of his hand. "We were both worn out and sunburned. I never had so much fun in my life."

"It sounds wonderful," Norah said. "What else did you do together?"

"All sorts of things: airplane museums, picnics, a tractor ride," Robert answered. "There was one time he took me to a country fair. Vendors were selling kites and wind toys but my father just said, 'I can do better than that' and showed me how to make a pinwheel. That was my father: someone who took the ordinary and made it extraordinary."

Robert's voice had become warm and content from telling over his memory. He looked positively blissful.

"I don't even remember what we did for the rest of the day. I just know that I fell asleep in the back of the car feeling like the luckiest kid in the world."

Norah laughed gently. "It's almost impossible to believe that the old tycoon Maurice Fischer spent a single day living like a normal human being."

Robert's face clouded over at once, reality dashing his childhood memories to pieces. "Yes, my father did have that reputation," he remarked dryly. "Did you know that when my mother was still in the hospital, I tried to make a special pinwheel just to cheer her up? My father took one look at it and shredded the thing to pieces, saying that it wouldn't do her any good. He got worse after she died and soon ended up being nothing but a cold-hearted invalid cursing away in his bed."

Robert finished up his monologue by kicking a pebble that was in his way. "Good riddance," he concluded. "My dad deserved it."

Norah noticed the change in his expression and gently laid a hand on Robert's arm. "Do you really hate him so much?" she asked softly.

"He shunned me, Norah. I was his only son and no matter how hard I tried to please him, my father just cast me aside like an unwanted dog," Robert vented. "Of course I hate him."

Cobb watched Norah choose her words carefully.

"Your father wasn't right to treat you with such contempt for so many years, Robert. I understand that you feel angry. But he's dead."

"And may he burn in hell," Robert added.

Norah shook her head. "You keep saying those things but you're not hurting him anymore, Robert. You're only hurting yourself."

"It's all I've got," Robert defended himself, though Cobb knew he had been affected by Norah's words. "Don't you still hate Eric for leaving you and Alex?"

Norah lingered over his question "A little bit, I suppose. It was worse when he and I would fight under the same roof. Now that he's gone I try not to let his memory linger on me."

"Why?"

"Because I can't raise Alexander with poison in my veins. I won't stoop to Eric's level by loathing and cursing him with every breath in my body."

Robert glanced down at Norah, hanging on her words. "So you're saying to bury the hatchet."

"When you're able to let go of your anger then yes, the sooner the better," Norah said. "As much as you're mad at your father, I'll bet he regretted every lonely minute at the end of his life. Imagine how he felt with all those wasted years between the two of you. He probably wanted sympathy and forgiveness as much as you did but was too proud to ask for it."

The creases in Robert's brow were slowly beginning to smooth out. "I never thought about it that way," he murmured. "That stubborn old bastard."

"The difference is that he's long gone but you're still here," Norah reminded him. "Isn't it worth burying the past for the chance to have even a little bit of happiness back in your life?"

By now they had become so engrossed in their conversation that Norah didn't notice Robert's arm was linked closely around hers. "When you put it like that I couldn't be anything but relieved to tear down his empire brick by brick," Robert said.

"At least you didn't leave it demolished into nothing," Norah reminded him. "And we're very grateful for the new jobs you've created."

"Really?"

Norah laughed aloud before speaking again. "Despite these casual appointments, let me remind you Mr. Fischer that you are still my employer! I'm not inclined to say things that disagree with you."

"I'll still want you to speak the truth from time to time," Robert insisted. "Even if it disagees with me."

"Would you mind if I got that down in writing?"

"Jenkins is definitely overworking you," Robert said. "I'll have to get you transferred to Accounting."

"What?"

"I've made up my mind. It's a better position and more compatible with your schedule," Robert assured her. "We're introducing a new health insurance plan that should cover your needs too."

Norah fell into silence, perhaps touched or just surprised by his generous offer. "Thank you, Robert. You don't know how much that means to me."

He eyed her curiously. "I've never met anyone who was so attentive to her son."

"Alexander has much love to give," Norah informed him. "Just last week we read '_A Thousand Paper Cranes'_ together and Alexander asked me if he'd die like Sadoko Sasaki. I assured him that asthma wasn't the same as cancer and his condition was treatable. 'That's good because I don't want to leave you here alone by yourself, Mom' he told me. I nearly bawled on the spot."

"Alexander sounds like an insightful person," Robert remarked wistfully. "I'd like to meet him one day."

"You can," Norah said. "I've been thinking about it for a while now and I want to invite you to our home for dinner this week."

The light-blue eyes of Robert Fischer widened at her offer. "It's nothing fancy, definitely not the catered affairs you must be used to. But I promise to use our good china and I make a wonderful pot roast," Norah offered.

Robert's gaze rested upon Norah's face. "I'd like that very much."

There was no doubt in Cobb's mind that Robert would arrive on Norah's doorstep that Friday night feeling somewhat uneasy and out of place yet eager enough to go through the process of accepting her invitation. But Robert was a gracious (if not shy) guest and almost instantly accepted by Alex, who taught Robert how to fold an origami paper crane in return for learning how to create a pinwheel out of magazine papers.

Robert had won the boy's admiration and Norah's seal of approval.

A-A-A

Cobb watched one of the young ladies exit the EcoCorp building and walk around to a side corner towards the pavement. Her shiny leather shoes made sharp clicking sounds as she swaggered with confidence and a carefree attitude. Her blonde hair was piled up untidily on top of her head and thick blue eyeshadow was smeared across her eyelids.

The girl waved to one of her friends who was already sitting on the curb and flipping through a magazine. Another girl in a green dress was sitting a few inches away and playing nervously with her cell phone.

"Hiya Amy!" The girl plunked herself down next to Amy and rummaged around in her purse for a cigarette. "Ain't it great when Fischer comes 'round here? That man's a sex god," she grinned.

"He's a little too clean and snooty for my taste," Amy retorted. "You got a lighter on you, Meg?"

"Sure." Meg extracted her lighter and two cigarettes, then handed one to Amy. "So what gives?"

Amy leaned closer to ignite her cigarette with the lighter. "Nothing. I just like a man who can get rough and tough with me. Fischer's a little too metrosexual for me. y'know?" She puffed on her cigarette with satisfaction.

"At least he's got a nice ass," Meg laughed.

The one in the green dress looked up from her cell phone. "You'd better not say that in the office, Meg. You'll get fired," she warned her companion.

"Oh re-_lax _Alexis! I keep my lips sealed and my blouse open. That's how a girl gets what she wants, right?" Meg flickered with the lighter for a moment. "But I wouldn't say 'no' to a man who's stinkin' rich as him."

"Why? You gonna hook up with him anytime soon?" Amy asked greedily.

Meg snickered. Then she leaned forward, lit her cigarette, and drew in a deep breath through her mouth. She exhaled deeply and let the smoke breeze out of her nostrils. "Nah, no point in trying. Fischer's taken."

Alexis looked surprised. "Are you sure? With who?"

Meg rolled her eyes at the girl. "My god, Alexis! You are like _so _thick!" She took out her cigarette and threw it on the ground. "With the lady at the front desk, duh!" She punctuated this comment by grinding the cigarette into dust with the toe of her shoe.

"Eww!" Amy gagged. "That's disgusting. Isn't she like, a lot older than him?"

"Not that much older," Alexis piped in, waving her cell phone in the air. "I talked to her the other day and she said—"

"You've been _talking _to her?" Amy sneered. "Alexis, that woman's a washed-up bitch who's just playin' Fischer for some cash."

Alexis shrugged her shoulder. "She seems nice she helps me with the copy machine. She told me about her son.""

"Well duh!" Meg rolled her eyes. "That's all she's got pictures of at her desk, that's all she ever talks about. It's 'my son' this and 'my son' that. Course she's sleeping with Fischer to take care of that brat. Kids cost money."

"Man, I don't want a kid," Amy nodded. "Ugly little things that puke and whine all the time. Who wants them?"

"Yeah." Meg nodded in agreement. Alexis just fiddled with her phone awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it, Alexis. This is _so_ normal." Amy traced a circle in the air with her cigarette.

"Fischer is gonna get tired of that old hag and pick someone younger than him. Or they'll get married and be split up in two months so she can get all those alimony checks. At least then Fischer will be off the hook." Amy dusted her skirt off with a smug smile. "Office romance. _So_ predictable."

"Totally," Meg nodded.

Cobb watched Norah's figure from around the corner. He couldn't see the look on her face because she had covered her eyes with her palms. Nora's body leaned against the wall and she continued to shake her head, too shamed and embarrassed to speak a single word.

The main lights in the train suddenly flashed out, leaving a single spotlight to guide Cobb towards the center of Norah's thoughts. Cobb got off his seat and walked over to the end of the train. With cautious movements, he reached out with his fingertips and touched the metal door of the train. It swung open with a flourish and before Cobb could blink, he was inside of Norah's apartment. A warm yellow glow was coming from one bedroom where Alex was reading in bed by the nightlight. The other bedroom was empty.

Alex, or at least the projection of Alex, did not even respond when Cobb walked softly across the carpeted floor and into his mother's bedroom. A lace shawl had been drapped across Norah's second-hand dresser for a feminine touch and Cobb noticed a silver brooch and brush placed on the right-hand side. But his attention was quickly drawn to the ornate wooden box that sat in the middle of the dresser, no doubt a family heirloom given to Norah by her grandmother. Cobb already had an inkling of an idea what was inside but he had to be absolutely certain about this woman's mindset.

He placed both hands on top of the box and easily lifted the hinges off the top. Inside was an origami crane folded from red paper.

A-A-A

_Five days later:_

"Did you do it?" Robert asked Cobb. They were sitting in the back yard while Cobb's kids had still half an hour to come home from school. Cobb was hoping to wrap up the deal before then.

"I went inside Norah's mind," Cobb said slowly. He was treading on thin ice and wanted to make the delicate conclusion as clear and simple as possible. That might be hard because Robert looked nervous and edgy.

"And did you do to her what you did to me?"Robert wet his lips nervously. "Did you perform inception on Norah? Will she take me back?"

Cobb took a deep breath. "No."

A heavy ominous presence lingered in the air like a storm cloud. "Why not?" Robert demanded crisply.

"Because," Cobb continued in his same sober tone "There was no need to."

He watched Fischer pace twice before whirling back onto him. "I don't understand you at all," he began to rant. "Threats, bribes, offers, nothing works. But you know how to bleed as much as any man who can-"

"Just shut up and listen to me!" Cobb finally barked. His change in mannerism had a surprisingly good effect on Robert, who did as he was told.

"Norah still loves you as much as you love her and possibly even more. But she's scared."

"Of what?"

"What other people are saying. About Fischer Junior, the billionaire playboy, dating a single mother on a limited paycheck when he could have anyone else in the entire world."

"What the HELL do I care what other people say?" Robert finally exploded. "I just want to be with Norah for the rest of my life! That's all!"

"And Alex," Cobb continued in a softer tone.

"Alex…right," Robert muttered.

Cobb sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Fischer was really complicating things for him. He'd had to walk this man through things if he was going to keep the client from losing his head.

"You have to listen to me because this is delicate situation. Norah has been in a terrible relationship with her last husband. She works hard to pay medical bills for her son. She's been very cautious about her future and doesn't want to be disposed as if she was one of your ties. The abuse would be too much for her."

"All right," Robert responded tensely.

"You have to make a choice. Leave Norah or marry her."

"That's all? You make it sound so simple," Robert retorted.

"Didn't you say you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her?"

"Yes. Of course I do," Robert nodded.

"Then let me tell you the most crucial thing you'll ever learn before you do it," Cobb leaned over in his chair, his voice becoming more compassionate and less demanding than before. "Don't make the same mistakes I made by concealing truths or imposing lies in the way. You'll live to regret it."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Just walk through the door and get on one knee?"

"Of course not," Cobb shook his head. "Ask Alex for permission first."

"What?"

"Norah scrutinizes people by how they treat her son. If you want to prove that you're not using her son to get to Norah then you've got to be on Alex's good side."

Robert shook his head. "That's…irregular advice," he responded feebly.

"It's my specialty," Cobb admitted. "Getting into people and finding out what makes them tick. I've been doing it for years. Do you want to chase me around the world because of a deal that I struck with your father's competitor? Do you think killing Saito or I will make you any happier then you've been with Norah? I've been in your head, Mr. Fischer. I know how you think and revenge won't get you a single step closer to your goal."

For once in his life, Robert Fischer did not have a response. He just stood there trying to digest the other man's words that were swiftly pulling down the walls of paranoia that Robert had built around himself.

Cobb went on. "You already know what I did to you but if it makes a single difference, I'll confess anyhow. I admit to performing inception on you. I admit to partaking in a plan that pulled your life apart. And while I'm not sorry for my actions Mr. Fischer, I _am_ sorry to have caused you this much pain."

Robert looked more dazed then angry. "Then why did you do it?" he asked in a faint whisper.

"For the same reason you followed the inception. For our families."

Robert was still looking confused and uneasy. He seemed to be slowly digesting the information that Cobb had placed before him, black and white and clear as crystal for him to see. Cobb knew that he couldn't rush his client. Fischer would just have to let everything come into his mind and accept the facts himself.

"I won't lie to you, Mr. Fischer. There's no need to perform inception on Norah. She's waiting for you. But you have to take the initiative."

Robert's weary face looked back at Cobb. "And if I fail? If she throws me out?"

For once, Cobb was certain of the outcome of his words. "She won't."

A-A-A

Alex thought it was great that Mr. Fischer had asked to spend this afternoon with him. He felt very lucky to be inside the coffee store instead of sitting restlessly in the recreation room at school and waiting for his mother to pick him up. Alex watched Mr. Fischer purchase a cup of coffee for himself, a mug of hot chocolate for Alex, and one of those cookies with sprinkles.

"How does it taste?" Robert asked Alex.

Alex took a satisfying slurp of his hot chocolate. "It's good," he nodded. "I asked my mom if I could try her coffee once but I didn't like it. It tasted icky."

"I never liked coffee until I was in college," Robert admitted.

"Really?" Alex was surprised. He thought all grownups grew up liking coffee. Then again, Mr. Fischer wasn't like other grown ups. He wore clothes that were new and clean but not too fancy. He smelled like soap, not cigars. And he talked to Alex like an equal; without asking him questions that made Alex feel bored or embarrassed.

"I have to ask you something important." Mr. Fischer had a funny noise in the back of his throat. Like it hurt for him to talk.

"Okay." Alex blinked his big brown eyes at Mr. Fischer. "What's up?"

"You know besides coming to your house for dinner, I've been dating your mother for a while now."

"Going out with her? Yes."

Robert rubbed his fingers together. He released a deep breath to calm his nerves. It felt almost as scary as that awful high school swim team he had signed up to impress Maurice. Not that all the nervous swimming and cramping had paid off. They took the bronze medal and Robert just wanted to lie in the bottom of the pool and drown.

"Is that all right with you, Alex? Do you feel okay while I've been taking her to movies and things?"

"Uh-huh." Alex nodded. And much to Robert's surprise, he even smiled. "I'm glad because it makes Mom happy. She comes home smiling after you drop her off."

"Really?"

"Yup." Alex picked up his mug and kept drinking the hot chocolate.

End of discussion. Almost.

Then Robert blurted out, "I love your mother."

Alex glanced back at him. "Really?" He leaned closer. "I think my mom loves you too."

A tiny flicker of light went on inside of Robert's heart, giving him the faintest nudge into the right direction. "Then, if it's okay with you, I um…" Robert cleared his throat. "I was going to ask you if it's okay—that is, if it's all right with you..."

Alex was still fiddling with the handle of his mug.

"I want to marry your mother," Robert said at last. "And I wanted to ask if that was all right with you."

Alex's heard jerked up in a flash. "You want to marry my mom?" he asked. "Does that mean you'd be my new dad?"

"Yes."Robert tried to give him an easy smile.

Alex glanced aside. Now he looked more nervous that Robert. "I don't know," he said slowly, looking down at the floor. "My last dad wasn't nice to Mom. I heard him yelling at her at night and sometimes he'd be drinking out of bottles, which made her cry a lot. I don't want her to be sad again."

Robert leaned over and tapped Alex on the arm. "Alex?" The boy glanced up at Robert anxiously. "I promise you that I will not be like your old dad. I'll do everything I can to make you and your mom happy."

Alex eased up. "Cross your heart?"

"Yes."

Alex made a gesture across his chest. "Prove it."

Relief came over Robert, who willingly mimicked Alex's movements. "I cross my heart and promise to be a good husband," he agreed. "And a good dad."

"You'll still build Legos with me?"

"I'll still build Legos with you. Pinwheels too," Robert added.

"But there's just one problem," Alex frowned. "If you live with us then where are you going to sleep? On the sofa?"

Once the big obstacle had been cleared, Robert allowed himself the moment to laugh briefly. "No, Alex. I was thinking maybe you and your mother could move into a new house with me."

"Houses cost money," Alex insisted. "Lots of money."

"I have money," Robert assured him. "Enough for you to have a new room too."

"Really?" Alex's face lit up. "Can I choose the colors?"

"Yes."

"Whoopie!" Alex threw up hands in the air. "Can we go tell her right now?"

"First I thought I'd buy your mother a present."

"She wants a necklace. A little diamond one with blue stones in it," Alex insisted. "I saw her looking through catalogs last week and she said she'd never buy one for herself but it looked kinda pretty."

Later that night, Norah would start the conversation by trying to act cold and civil with Robert. She wouldn't last very long. He'd almost get on one knee but realizing how ridiculous it would look in front of Alex, asked if all three of them could sit around Norah's little kitchen table.

Robert would take out the little velvet box, open up to reveal the sapphire pendant, and ask Norah to marry him while reminding her that Alex had already accepted Robert as a potential member of the family.

"Yes," Norah said. Her voice was faint but there were tears in her eyes.

She sniffled and Alex would have to ask why Mom was crying. "She's happy," Robert would explain.

That's all he would need to say before Nora would put her arms around Robert and kiss him without hesitation. Robert could already feel the stinging words of Maurice Fischer slipping away from him like fading memories washed out of his mind, only to replaced with a gentle balm of kindness.

A-A-A

_One month later in Florida:_

"Did you see the papers?" Ariadne asked Cobb. She adjusted her sunglasses and read aloud from the magazine in her lap.

"_Newly-established CEO Robert Fischer Junior, son of the late billionaire tycoon Maurice Fischer, has taken a 3-week leave of his company," _Ariadne pronounced with a flourish. _"Fischer EcoCorp continues to remain fully operational under the management of Fischer Junior's new executive director, Antonio Ruiz_."

"Hmmmm," was all Cobb said. He was more interested in the sight of his two children who were amusing themselves by burying Eames in the sand. The young man was already almost covered up to his chest and they continued to dump bucket after bucket of sand onto his stomach.

"Don't wiggle your toes!" he was chided. Eames chuckled and tried to sit still. He was quickly diverted by the sight of two bombshells in matching yellow bikinis who were walking by.

"Hello ladies," Eames said, giving them his most sultry voice and doing something with his eyebrows that Cobb presumed was a flirting gesture.

Before one of them could respond, a bucket of sand landed directly onto Eames' head. He coughed and sputtered, much to the ladies' amusement. They giggled among themselves and continued on their way.

Cobb just gave his son a look. "You said it was okay!" James insisted.

"I didn't say suffocate me," Eames protested, trying to blink out a grain of sand from his eye.

Everyone was sprawled out on the beach enjoying themselves and soaking up every ounce of well-deserved vacation. Cobb considered this a sufficient spring trip for his kids and a personal reward for handling the Fischer case. Ariadne had tagged along, saying she needed a few days to rest her brain cells from her university studies. Arthur had to be coaxed out of Buenos Aires but Eames was more than eager to drag the dark-haired young man along.

Arthur was still the odd man out of the group as he came back to their area of beach chairs holding a pina colada in each hand. Still ranting about his sensitivities to sun tanning, he was wearing a huge cotton blue-and-white shirt, khakis, and a wide-brimmed floppy hat to protect his head from the sun's rays. His nose was a white triangle from being smeared with sun block and he wore enormous sunglasses over his face.

Ariadne lifted up her own sunglasses a peek to examine him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to hide from the rest of the world."

"I am," Arthur insisted. He handed Ariadne her pina colada and tried to ease himself back into a beach chair. At the last minute his grip slipped and Arthur spilled half of his drink across his shirt. "Damn!" he exploded, trying to flap it back and forth.

"Arthur," Cobb warned him. "There are youngsters aboard."

"You can only swear in French," Eames smirked.

"Thanks for nothing," Arthur grumbled. He went back to sipping what was left of the pina colada in his glass. "No word on Fischer's sudden disappearance?"

"Let me check." Ariadne skimmed the article again. "Nope, nothing about it. They thing he's gone to the Philippines for some more development but it's just a rumor." She eyed Cobb. "I suppose you don't know anything about this."

Cobb leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh come on!" Ariadne insisted. "You have to let us know at least what you had to do with it."

"It has to do with one of those family-friendly cruises."

Arthur and Ariadne exchanged looks. The girl began to crack up. "Fischer? On a kids' party boat? No way," Ariadne laughed. "Not 'Daddy Issues' Fischer."

"The same. And he'll be back a married man."

"Then he's doomed," Eames warned them.

Arthur had already taken the article from Ariadne and skimmed it. "I see the paparazzi didn't even get to take a peek at where Fischer was going. That's very unusual."

"Isn't it?" Cobb smirked.

He had consented to a final request from Fischer to make sure nobody would bother the wealthy young man as he left the country with Norah and Alex. It was true that a few nosy reporters had sworn to shadow Robert Fischer so they could sell his story to the papers. But for the oddest reasons, they simply couldn't recall where he was or what they were supposed to do if they saw him...

Insomuch as Cobb's relationship with Mr. Fischer had been shaky at best, the extractor was more than a bit surprised to find out how generous the millionaire was in expressing his gratitude. Aside from unlimited use of the luxurious Miami condo, Cobb wouldn't have to worry about sending his children to college with such a handsome trust fund set up.

Phillipa walked over to her father and put her hands in his lap. "Daddy, whatever happened to that man who came on my birthday? The one who said he worked with you?"

Smiling to her, Cobb lifted his daughter up and set her down into his lap. "Mr. Fischer has some important things to take care of."

Phillipa blinked large dark eyes at her father."Like what?"

Cobb stroked his daughter's long blonde locks. "Do you remember all those years when Daddy had to be away from you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I had to work very hard until I could come home to see you again. Mr. Fischer has also been working very hard for a long time without any friends to help him."

"How long?"

"Many years, probably even longer than me."

"Ooooh," Phillipa's mouth opened in sympathy. "That's sad."

"Yes it is. But everything's all right now," Cobb assured her. "You see, Mr. Fischer just got married. He's on a boat out there with his new wife and son." Cobb pointed out to the sparkling sea. "And he's having a great vacation just like us, far away from his work, so he can spend some time with his new family. He needs a _very_ long break from all of his work."

"That's great!" Phillipa gushed. "Is Alex my age? Can I see him soon?"

"Not too soon," Cobb informed her. He wasn't just ready to leave his children playing blissfully in the sand again. But seeing her wistful expression, he managed to give her a last bit of optimism to tuck into the memory of that sunny day.

"I think we'll see Mr. Fischer again someday," Cobb assured his daughter. "And when we do, he will be very different man."

END


End file.
